


I miss you

by BarricadeKitten (Dominatrix)



Series: I loved you long before we were alive [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Actually mutual pining, Angst, Can you put a warning for pain?, Exes, M/M, Pining, Pining Enjolras, Seriously this is so much pain, This is not Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/BarricadeKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is not okay.<br/>He hasn't been okay in a while now.<br/>And he knows that Grantaire hasn't been okay, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I miss you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello kittens,  
> this is the first part of a kind-of-multi-chap-kind-of-series-thingy, which can be read both as a big story or as independent stories.  
> The concept of this series is inspired by (500) Days of Summer, and will follow Enjolras and Grantaire through their time together.
> 
> This is day 1000.
> 
> Love, Liz x
> 
> (Also, slow clap for worst and most uncreative title EVER.)

Enjolras is not okay.

He hasn't been okay in a while now.

And he knows that Grantaire hasn't been okay, either.

Not that he told him, he always made a big thing of keeping things to himself. Until one day it was just too much to handle, and too late to fix. And Grantaire left. He just left, without saying if he was ever planning on coming back. Without saying what made him go away.

Or maybe, just maybe Grantaire _has_ told him, and Enjolras has not been listening. It seems like he is not good at listening. He remembers now. It is not a nice memory though. He remembers Grantaire's voice growing louder into a full yell, and the shatter of glass.

_„If you would just fucking listen to me, Enjolras, maybe then we would have a chance!“_

He can't remember what he replied, but he does remember how Grantaire's face fell, how every hint of colour left his skin to leave him pallid and ashen. He remembers the tension in Grantaire's jaw when he gave Enjolras a curt nod with murder and tears in his eyes. He remembers how his nails dug into his palms when he balled his hands into fists as the door slammed shut. It was the last time he has seen Grantaire.

The meetings after were quiet without his boyfriend – or ex-boyfriend, Enjolras is not sure, and he doesn't want to be because he fears the answer. His friends tiptoed around him for the first days, weeks even, painfully careful not to mention Grantaire, or anything which might remind Enjolras of him. It made conversation hard when everything Enjolras cares about is how Grantaire is,  _where_ he is right now, if they will be able to fix it again.

There hasn't been a meeting for about two weeks now, and Enjolras is glad. He doesn't want to see anybody right now. He doesn't want to be at the Café Musain, he doesn't want to remember the way Grantaire used to rest his head on Enjolras' shoulder when they were able to snatch the love-seat in the corner before Courf and Jehan called dibs on it.

Enjolras turns the phone around in his hands, tapping his fingers on the material with an impatient rhythm. If Grantaire would see him do that, he would carefully place his own hands on Enjolras's, stroking the skin. „Stop that“ he would say softly, and Enjolras would. Not because he was being told, but because he would not feel nervous anymore. Grantaire always manages to ground him again.

Grantaire is not here though. And that is kind of the whole problem. Well, no. Not the whole problem. But the consequence of the problem. Grantaire is not here. The thought echoes in his mind and burns in his chest.

Within seconds, he has got his number dialed and the phone at his ear. There is a brief moment of wondering what would actually be worse. If Grantaire would see Enjolras's number on his phone and not pick up, or if he would pick up and Enjolras would hear his voice and -

„What do you want?“

This is worse. There is no way silence could hurt as much as Grantaire's voice, low, hoarse, and nearly hostile.

„Will you ever come back?“

There it is again, this brief moment of wondering what would actually be worse. Grantaire could say no, and Enjolras would never see him again, never wake up next to him, never have the artist's hands in his hair and on his skin. Grantaire could say yes, and Enjolras would fuck it up. He doesn't want to. But he knows he would. He has never wanted it to be like this. To end like this. He has wanted more than this limited number of days with Grantaire.

Today, he has known him for a thousand days. Yes, he has been counting. That's how pathetic he is. And what else is there to do anyway, with his friends leaving him to wail in his self-pity and misery? He faintly remembers screaming at them, that they should all go away.

He regrets it now. He would like an arm around his shoulder. No, that's not true. He would like Grantaire's arm around his shoulder. Right now, he doesn't want anybody else. He just wants Grantaire.

He just wants things to be okay again.

But from the long pause at the other end of the line, and from the sharp breath Grantaire draws in, he knows that this is not going to happen.

„For what?“

„For us. I want to fix this. I want to make you happy again. Please, R.“

„Don't call me that“ Grantaire sighs, and Enjolras can feel the anguish in his voice when he speaks up again, it burns deep in his chest.

„Enjolras...Are you – are you okay? Actually no, don't answer that. It doesn't matter.“

The words sting, but they can't really dull the rush of Enjolras's blood when he hears Grantaire say his name for the first time in weeks.

„I miss you“ he says, and it sounds weak, beaten, and not like him. On the other end of the line he hears the grinding of teeth when a jaw is clenched.

„No, you don't. You miss having me, but not me.“

Enjolras is not sure if he understands.

„Just tell me what you want, okay? Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. Anything, R. Really.“

„You can't do this to me, Enjolras.“ The voice on the other end is rough, and Enjolras imagines he hears it break at the end.

„I will do anything, R. To have you come back to me. Just...please. I beg you. Let's work this out.“

„Why?“

Enjolras takes a deep breath, in spite of the lump in his throat. „Because I love you.“

The only thing he gets as an answer is the click of the call being ended.

 


End file.
